Week 4 - Write a valuable learning experience as a child. Write one you had as an adult.

Alright, this is going to be a difficult one. How do you remember the things you learned as a child? Most of the things you don't actually realize that you learned them as a child until you are an adult. Things like, don't touch a hot pan.

Here's a story. I'm pretty sure I knew that one, but as an adult in Korea I really learned it. We lived on the outskirts of Seoul, still a city that looked and felt larger than anything close to what we've got here in Utah, but not in downtown. Anyway, there were four missionaries in our house. It was a rough time in the mission for me, and we were in a rough area. I struggled probably the first year of my mission with figuring out what I was really supposed to be doing. I was on the wrong side probably hurting the work more than I was helping. Anyway, it was in this house that we did a lot of food things together with the other missionaries. One day we were frying up something in the frying pan - probably eggs, we used to eat fried eggs over rice multiple times a week. After frying up the eggs, there was a dare or one of those, I wonder what would happen if thoughts that crept into my mind. The next thing I knew, my tongue was sizzling on the frying pan. It didn't sizzle long before I tugged it off. It pulled a bit kind of like your tongue would if you stuck it to a pole outside in the winter. It was then that the lesson Mom always taught about staying away from the hot pan and hot stove really stuck with me.

Another lesson that finally stuck home with me was the always unspoken rule told only by the sticker on the lawnmower of don't put your hand here or else it'll have something bad happen. After my mission, I moved away from home, only 10-15 miles away, up by Weber State University with a few of my friends. We lived in a big house, seven of us. It was a great time and a great place to be. I was running quite a bit and had just returned from a race that I did really well at. I was still all sweaty and gross, so I decided to mow the lawn before showering. The yard wasn't that big, compared to Mom and Dad's yard where it took two hours to mow the lawn, and it only took 30 minutes or so. The grass really didn't grow well either, so it was more of a weekly formality than really a necessity. Dad had donated his old lawnmower to us. It worked fine, once you got it going. It was such an ordeal some days getting it going that I had rigged up something with rope to hold down the bar that kept the lawn mower on instead of shutting down when it was released. This allowed you to empty the catch bag, put it back on and keep going without the battle of starting up the machine again. Mowers nowadays have two levers, one that engages the blade and one that engages the drive, this mower didn't have that luxury. After emptying the bag, I cam back to put it back on and there was a large pile of grass that fell out of the bag as I took it off. I had to get it out of the way to put the bag back on, so without even thinking about it I reached down, grabbed the grass and felt and heard the cutting go right through my fingers. I pulled my hand out and ran into the house to check out the damage. It took me a while to get up the nerve to take the pressure off of my fingers. I knew something bad had happened, but didn't want to see it. I finally took the pressure off, looked at my hand and promptly put the pressure back on. I don't even know if I ran any water over them to try and clean it out. I ran around the house looking for a roommate to take me to the hospital to get my fingers fixed. Luckily, one of them was home. he took me to McKay-Dee Hospital's emergency room and waited with me while the doctor came in numbed my hand, cleaned it up and stitched my two fingers back together. My left pointer finger wasn't the same for a while. The middle finger wasn't cut too bad and was back to normal in a few weeks. Now, seven or eight years later, the finger it totally functional, but a little misshaped if you really look at it and the nail is a little harder than the other fingers. Lesson learned, don't put your hand in the lawnmower, or obey the stickers/warning signs.

One of many things I have learned from Dad - work hard and put in an honest days work for an honest days pay. This lesson doesn't only revolve around the work put in at the office for your employer. Dad worked in the court house in Farmington, Utah for as long as I remember. Towards the end of his career he put in some time at Syracuse City, but his career was for "the county" at the court house. It took just over twenty minutes to get to the court house. Dad would leave for work every day at 7:30 a.m. and, like clock work, the garage door would open just as the clock on the microwave in the kitchen was turning 5:30 p.m. as we all sat around the bar with dinner hot and on the table. Dad put in a honest day's work for an honest day's pay at the office. Sunday morning we'd wake up to Mom singing some church song - whatever was on her mind that day. We'd get up and rolling, pile into the car/van with her and go to the church. As we walked into the church and by the clerk's office, there was Dad waiting to walk into the chapel with us. Then, he'd go up onto the stand and sit there to do whatever clerks do on the stand. He did this for years. Dad put in an honest day's work with his church callings as well, for an honest day's pay of blessings. Dad was the first one to point out as soon as we were old enough to understand that we were very "watched over" or "blessed." Now, I find myself pointing out those things in the very same manner. Dad taught that when you do what the Lord asks, He is bound to bless you and He does. Dad always gave all the credit to being watched over by our Father in Heaven. I have learned now that Dad wasn't just being the humble guy that he is, he was speaking truths. Kelly and I have seen numerous blessings come into our lives that can only be explained by we are doing what our Heavenly Father has asked us to do.

When I was old enough, Dad taught me to mow the lawn and I took over responsibility for the lawn from my older brother Jason. While this was exciting at first, it became a drag and I'm sure I complained quite a bit about it. But, it was nice to have a little bit of money. Dad paid at first $5 for mowing the lawn, then $10 and I think when I got old enough he even paid $15 for mowing and trimming the lawn. I was responsible for making sure I had enough gas to do the job. If I remembered, we could take the gas can when we were filling up the car, but quite regularly I'd forget and nobody was available to take me to the gas station when I needed gas to mow the lawn. Old Farm Market was only two blocks away. It was across the 3500 West, the main road by our house, but Mom and Dad would let me go by myself once I got old enough. When I got gas, I'd usually get a goody like a Mr. Goodbar and a soda. I liked to mix a few different soda's together for a new taste each time I went, but Sprite was my favorite soda growing up. One day when I was over at Old Farm Market, I didn't have enough money for a goody, but I really wanted one. The candy isle was on the other side of the counter. I waited until the lady working the counter was helping someone else, and I stuck a candy bar in my hat, put my hat on and walked out. It was so easy. So, I did it a few more times. One time I even remember having so many pieces of candy stuck in my hat that I'm sure it was sticking out as I walked out the door. I may have even been walking kind of funny to keep the hat on my head. I can't remember why I stopped stealing candy. I was never caught by Old Farm Market, or my parents. I remember just telling Dad about this a few years back as I was searching for the owners of Old Farm Market to pay them back. I do know the pain and guilt that has haunted me through the years about the things I took from Old Farm Market without paying. I wasn't honest and it has stuck with me. Thankfully, our Father in Heaven created a part of the plan that allows us to clean ourselves of these times when we aren't honest with ourselves and others. I've learned that we can clean our hearts and minds with the power of the atonement through repenting of things we do that are wrong. While it isn't easy, it works. We feel guilty about doing something. We asked for forgiveness, repay and debt that may be there and never do the act again. It works. I am thankful to a knowing Heavenly Father that made a plan that was usable by His children He knew wouldn't be quite perfect, but could become perfect through His plan.